


A Recipe for Happiness

by eveshka



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Ignis Fluff Week, ignisfluffweek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-11
Updated: 2017-12-11
Packaged: 2019-02-13 14:23:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12985938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eveshka/pseuds/eveshka
Summary: For all his proclivity to fancy dishes with expertly crafted meals and proper plating, Ignis Scientia's needs as far as comfort foods went were simple.





	A Recipe for Happiness

For all his proclivity to fancy dishes with expertly crafted meals and proper plating, Ignis Scientia's needs as far as comfort foods went were simple.

  
The proper amount of Cygillan sea salt, Leiden potatoes, Cleigne darkshells, and a generous amount of cream and white wine, amongst other spices. Rendered over low heat for long periods of time, the potatoes slowly melded into the white wine and cream, forming a rich base for the chowder he so enjoyed.

  
But it had been years since he’d tasted any of that chowder, and while the ingredients were still available, they weren’t easily accessible.

So Ignis lived in his personal darkness and waited for Noctis to return and the sun to rise.

 

He’d passed through Lestallum to get a feel for the mindset of the Glaives who were struggling to push back the night, even after the project to re-light Leide had failed.

What he hadn’t expected was to encounter Prompto and end up in a small rented room for the night while the younger man insisted on making him a meal.

Ignis was supposed to be the one who cooked, not the other way ‘round. He’d said so, quite firmly, but Prompto had made up his mind, and much like a force of nature, Prompto had gotten his way.

 

So there Ignis was, sitting at a table outside in the warm air of Lestallum that smelled of sweat, refuse, and fires, waiting for Prompto. Normally, Ignis would have wanted to sit inside, but Prompto had insisted it would spoil the surprise, and so Ignis sat. Outside. In the dark. Where it smelled.

  
He supposed it could have been worse, but was just about out of patience when the door bumped open and Prompto came banging out of the building. “Okay, one Prompto Special, coming right at ya. Hope you’re hungry ‘cause I may have made way too much.”

  
There was the clink of metal against whatever the table was made out of, and Ignis walked long fingers along the table surface until he encountered a metal bowl.

  
“Hang on, careful.. it’s hot. Here,” Prompto’s voice was close to his ear, and the touch at his wrist was gentle when Prompto moved his hand to the utensil that had been left in the bowl. “Lean in and blow a bit.”

  
Thoughts flashed through Ignis’ mind, jokes that Gladio would have made and the disgusted sound that Noctis would have offered in reply. The affronted sound that Prompto would have returned and the general laughter that would have filled the Regalia as a result of Ignis requesting they focus on the matter at hand, knowing full well he was participating in the double entendre game.

  
He missed those days and allowed a smile to play at his lips as he blew on whatever happened to be in his (fork? spoon?) before bringing it to his lips.

 

Flavor burst on his tongue, reminders of cool nights along the seaside of Galdin Quay, salt in the wind and on his cheeks. The darkshells were heavier in flavor than he recalled, but the potatoes were rich and the cream sauce richer. He swallowed, absolutely bowled over by the taste, and lowered the spoon.

  
“Prompto, how in the world?”

  
“It wasn’t a big deal; it’s not a difficult dish.” The younger man said from his right. The sound of his spoon hitting a bowl made it evident that he was indulging in the meal as well. “And I remembered that you liked it, right?”

  
‘Liked it’ was rather a weak way of saying it. “Prompto,” Ignis ventured, “this is my favorite meal. And you have managed to capture it perfectly.”

  
“Dude, really?” All these years, and Prompto still lost a decent grip on his language when excited. “Nah, man, I kind of knew. I mean, I paid attention, and you always had a bowl of this when you thought you could get away with it. It was easy enough to make for you.”

  
That touched Ignis more than he cared to admit. He was the one who was supposed to make things for others. And to know that Prompto had paid attention back then and remembered it, then thought enough to make it for Ignis… “Thank you, Prompto. This means more than you can know.”

  
“My pleasure, Iggy. My pleasure.”

  
Ignis knew that moments such as these were fleeting, so he put all thoughts of the future away, and focused instead on the meal and the friendship of a young man who was so much more than he could ever know.


End file.
